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Missy Bear had a long journey ahead of her (about 50 NM) to get to Lemnos, the historic Gateway to Constantinople. So, we cast off early at first light (05:30) and headed north-west, on a course of 295 degrees. The breeze filled in steadily from the north-east, and we were sailing on a fine reach towards our destination, probably Moudros Bay on the south-east corner. Istanbul Expressway We were on alert as we were crossing the main shipping routes in and out of the Dardanelle

Missy Bear alongside at Langhadi, Chios The following morning was an early rise, as we had over 50NM to sail to our next island on the ladder, Chios. We weighed anchor at 07:30 and, with a F3 from the south west, bowled along under asymmetric averaging well over 6 knots. As is often the case along the Anatolian coastline, headlands of Türkiye jut out westwards, and to get from one Greek Island to another efficiently, one must cross through areas of Turkish water. This, in int

New cloth ensign for a new season Missy Bear is 5-years-old this year, and in her sixth sailing season. So, it was time to get the standing rigging checked over-winter. The technicians sent us photos, and it transpired that all was well with the stainless-steel wires and connectors, but they informed us that our Windex was broken (the wind direction indicator on the top of the mast). I wonder how that happened? Our friend Tony suggested that a fat seagull might have landed on

Flat Island - Ships' Graveyard Flat Island (‘ Yassi Ada ’ in Turkish) lies 16NM south-east of Leros, in the channel between the Greek Islands and the Turkish Bodrum Peninsula. Missy Bear regularly sails up the same channel heading home from Kos and all places further south. The tiny, low island is a ships’ graveyard. For example, in the summer of 626 AD, an Eastern Roman (Byzantine) cargo ship hit the reef there and sank in 30m of water. It was small merchant sailboat. It had

Migrating birds It’s January in France and the mornings are very dark. It was only two degrees this morning, and densely foggy. The ground is saturated, and mountain biking can be slow and muddy work in the valley bottoms. Now is opportunity to light the log fire, curl up and read, and to ponder life some more. As I write in the warmth, I am watching a feeding-frenzy as a host of great tits and blue tits rapidly empty the feeder of sunflower seeds outside on the balcony. The